


terrible thrills

by teandfailure



Series: sugar daddy au [2]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, BDSM, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Impregnation play, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, each chapter stands alone, more specifics warnings in chapter notes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-09-17 03:29:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16966845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teandfailure/pseuds/teandfailure
Summary: “do you want to do kinky stuff with me?” ed presses. “what kind of stuff is it?”“i’m already doing kinky stuff with you,” roy replies dryly. “i’ll make you a list.”





	1. daddy

**Author's Note:**

> each chapter stands alone, more or less; it’s all set in the same universe (the same au from my other fic [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14756147)), but they’re not going to be posted chronologically or anything like that, and it’s not like we’re here for plot, so you shouldn’t miss anything crucial if you skip around or need to sit one out.  
> .  
> i’m only tagging the main kinks, but each chapter will have more detailed warnings in the author’s notes at the beginning. (just trying not to burden this fic with a thousand tags, not trying to make anybody read anything they don’t want to.) 
> 
> the phrase “terrible thrills” belongs to jack antonoff, although he uses it pretty differently from how i’m using it here lmao. 
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> warnings for this chapter specifically: non-negotiated kink, fingering, penetrative sex, ed getting his face slapped, comeplay, lil hints of size kink stuff, allusions to (but no actual) fisting

ed calls roy daddy the first time on accident.

roy is edging him like crazy, has him on the bed with his legs up and three fingers in his ass, and he won’t stop teasing him about how obvious it is that ed wants _more,_ how roy could keep him like this all night and just keep stretching him wider until he could take roy’s whole hand. they’ve never done that before — _ed’s_ never done that before, even if he’s jerked off to the thought of it a time or twenty — but roy loves to do shit like this, talk about all the things he could do, all the things ed would let him do, just because the bastard is a little bit drunk on power. 

ed is all dilated pupils and warm muscle, relaxed and slippery wet and so hard it’s probably making him a little lightheaded, so he’s- distracted, to say the least, and he just says it, in the middle of a string of half-formed moans, before he can think well enough through the haze of subspace to stop it. “fuck, _please,_ daddy-” 

and then the brain part of his brain catches up to him, and he says, “shit, sorry, i- i don’t-” _know where that came from,_ he tries to say, which isn’t strictly true but seems like the thing to say here, but roy is doing that thing where he curls his fingers over and over again and ed sees fireworks, and speaking is- difficult edging closer to impossible- 

roy pulls his hand away with a wet noise, and ed whines involuntarily at the loss, the emptiness aching after roy’s kept him full for so long. for a moment, his head fills with what if’s — he doesn’t really know what kind of reaction to expect, if roy will be disgusted or just regular uncomfortable or get all pissy and think ed is trying to call him old or something — but the silence just… stays silent. the safeword never comes. 

"say it again," roy practically growls, after a pause long enough it’s made ed sweat. 

“...what?” 

he says, “don’t make me repeat myself, edward,” and then quieter, in his regular roy voice, “do you remember your safeword?” 

“of course,” ed says, and it comes out slightly garbled, slurred at the edges. “yellow means pause, red means stop, green means ‘please put your fingers back inside me oh my _god-’”_

roy slaps him. 

the sound of skin on skin echoes through the bedroom, reverberating like the rumble of an avalanche. “say. it. again.” 

ed blinks his head clear, in slow motion like he’s high. he’s dimly aware of pain, tingling and stinging sharp on his cheek, but it feels distant, almost like it’s happening to someone else. the air suddenly feels thick and sluggish, clogging up his lungs, and it takes a moment for him to parse roy’s words; when he does, though, it goes _straight_ to his dick, hard and curved up against his stomach. another wave of that aching empty feeling hits him so hard he shivers, and what remained of ed’s filter goes totally out the window, so he drags his eyes up to meet roy’s and says, “daddy, please, i-”

“tell me what you need.” his voice is ragged, thready and urgent, which is intensely satisfying and _definitely_ intoxicating, holy shit- if he can make roy come this undone with three words, just imagine the possibilities with a larger breadth of vocabulary- 

ed swallows. his mouth feels like it’s full of cotton balls. “i’m ready, i can take it, please- i need your cock, daddy, i-”

thankfully, roy doesn’t make him ask again. his hands are fumbling as he undoes his belt, shoving his boxers down, quick and efficient and an edge of what ed suspects — hopes — is desperation. roy rips the condom open with his teeth, because he’s _ridiculous,_ rolls it on with one hand while he’s fumbling with lube with the other. he pulls ed’s legs apart, hard, and ed whines like a needy animal, moving his hips in search of friction. roy hasn’t touched his dick all night.

roy is so close between his legs; he’s lined up so ed can _just_ feel the head of his cock pressed against his entrance, just enough pressure to remind ed he’s there. “let me take care of this for you,” he says. his eyes feel heavy, hot and liquid like molten metal as roy looks pointedly down at ed’s cock, flushed pink and leaving little dribbles against his stomach. “you’ve been so patient today, so obedient and sweet and beautiful for me even though i know how desperate you are.”

and then roy is pushing in, a slow and steady pressure that stretches ed open so much it feels like he’s coming apart, and ed cries out, wordless and needy and pulling roy in close. they kiss, sloppy and open-mouthed and messy, and ed swears against his lips, “fuck _fuck_ fuck, roy, god, i-”

roy moves his hips slowly at first, letting ed savor the push-pull fullness, the wonderment of being so stretched and full that it aches, and ed starts to whimper. _“god,_ you’re so big,” he says, without much thought behind it.

it seems kind of like stating the obvious, like roy knows how hung he is and ed is far from the first pretty person roy’s had underneath him moaning about how good his dick feels, but roy snaps his hips _hard,_ even deeper than he’d been before, and he growls, “that’s right,” with a mixture of possessiveness and pride. ed sees stars, grabs blindly at roy’s shoulders and probably leaves claw marks down his back and can’t even be bothered to feel bad. “tell daddy what you need, sweetheart.”

“harder, please- i-” roy rolls his hips again, slow and heavy, huge and aching inside him in all the right ways. _“fuck,_ fucking- it feels like ‘m gonna fucking explode- feels so good, jesus _fuck-”_

“you look so pretty like this,” roy murmurs. “i can see how much you want it; look at the mess you’ve already made for me.” he takes his free hand and gently, feather light, lets his thumb trace through the precum leaking all over the head of ed’s cock and the skin of his lower belly where his cock is resting. “you’re going to look so beautiful coming all over yourself, all over my hand and your stomach and your beautiful spent cock-”

roy shifts the angle, settles back into a comfortable pace, then drags his thumb over ed’s slit one last time before he finally, blessedly, gets his hand around him. ed makes a noise somewhere between a whine and a sob; he can’t decide if he wants to beg for more or pull away, like it’s both too much and not enough at the same time. 

from the way roy’s looking at him, the conflict must be written all over his face. “i’ve got you,” roy says, his voice warm. he’s jerking ed off slow and dirty, falling into a rhythm of long, measured strokes that feel like sparks dancing against his hyper-sensitive skin. “daddy’s going to take good care of you tonight; you’ve been so good for me today, i think you’ve earned it.”

ed is practically writhing, flushed pink and glistening with sweat as he tries bucks his hips up to meet roy’s hand sooner. “fuck, _shit,_ i can’t- i’m close, please, _please,_ i’m not gonna-”

roy starts to twist his hand, times his strokes with the thrust of his hips and wrings these sweet little moans out of ed again and again in a hypnotic, trippy sort of clockwork. “i’m right here, i’ve got you,” roy says, and it’s reassuring, the way roy makes ed feel cared for, even in a moment like this. “you can come for me, ed- i know you’re close, i won’t make you wait-” and that’s all it takes: ed shivers, shakes, falls to pieces and is born again better for it in this moment, an orgasm ripping through him like a freight train. he cries out and comes in sticky beads all over his stomach and his dick and roy’s hand, with his face buried in the crook where roy’s neck meets his shoulder, and roy swears and fucks him through it. 

roy groans, deep in his chest, and doesn’t stop even as ed starts to whimper. “ed, i-” he says, and ed makes another needy noise, and then roy is bringing his hand up to ed’s mouth and offering him two messy fingers to suck on. ed is so deep in the subspace it’s like he’s floating, complacent and warm and putty in roy’s beautiful hands, so he does what he does best: opens his mouth and sucks. 

“oh, _fuck,_ edward,” roy pants, and his voice has gone high and thready. “look at you,” he says, his voice quiet, almost- awed. “you feel so good on daddy’s cock, sweetheart.”

roy changes the angle and slams his hips hard, and ed’s vision goes white around the edges. his cock is so overstimulated and sensitive he feels like he’s on fire, and roy’s still hitting his prostate; it’s right on the cusp of where pain meets pleasure, which is one of ed’s favorite places to be in a scene. he can feel his cock is still dribbling, half hard and twitching. “please, fuck _fuck_ fuck- daddy, i want you to come inside me, please, _god-”_

roy finishes with a groan, deep inside of him and clinging wordlessly as he trembles through it. ed feels thoroughly used, frayed at the edges both physically and mentally, and his body feels buzzy, tingly, only anchored where roy’s hands are touching him. after ten seconds or ten minutes or some indeterminate amount of time in between, roy pulls out, tosses the condom and wipes feebly at the mess they’ve made. ed makes a soft noise at the loss. 

he starts to come down pretty quickly after that. 

his head had felt thick before, like he was trying to operate familiar controls through a layer of fog, but it goes from ‘thick’ to ‘so heavy it’s hard to keep his eyes open’ pretty quickly after the scene starts to wrap up. dimly, halfheartedly, he wonders if this is what people mean when they talk about sub drop.

roy is gentle with him — scooping ed up like a ragdoll, repositioning them against the pillows and settling with ed in his arms. he’s warm where their skin is touching, and dimly, ed can hear roy talking — honey-sweet with his voice deep in his chest — but he can’t seem to come up enough to parse the words. 

his mind wanders, quiet as he zones out. ed finds himself replaying the scene in his head, half embarrassed and half in awe. he’d called roy _daddy._ something twists in the pit of his stomach — there’s a daddy issues joke buried in all the layers here, one roy is too polite to make but ed is all too keenly aware of anyway, and given his particularly history, he’s not terribly excited about the implication. even setting that particularly unfortunate detail aside, the whole situation is just so… pathetic? embarrassing? wildly inappropriate, but still basely humiliating in a way that gets his dick hard? 

when ed opens his eyes, he starts, fumbling, with “roy, oh my god, i am _so sorry._ i know that that’s not- this isn’t an appropriate way to introduce something new in our relationship, and i know that. it sounds ridiculous to say it like this, but it really was an accident- not that that makes me any less culpable for my actions, of course-”

“edward,” roy says, his voice carefully clipped, neutral. “you don’t have to apologize; i’m an adult, and i would’ve stopped the scene if i’d been uncomfortable.” he pauses, but roy’s far too good at playing the game to give anything away on his face. “if you didn’t like it, we don’t have to do it again.”

“wait, what’re you- that’s not what i’m trying to say, but it’s not _not_ what i’m saying either- whether i liked it is irrelevant right now, is what i mean. this- this is me trying to apologize to you, because i fucked up, and it’s not about what kind of weird shit gets me off-”

roy laughs, almost jovial when ed had been expecting something in the neighborhood of disgust or anger. “what’s the point of all of this if it’s not celebrating the weird shit that gets you off?” he still has his arms wrapped around ed, comfortably solid, and the happiness seems to be regrettably contagious, because for whatever reason, ed kind of wants to laugh, too. “i’m charmed that you’re so worried about me, but i promise you’re not going to scare me away. i have some- proclivities, too, outside of the things we’ve already done together.”

ed just blinks at him for a minute, his neck craned at an awkward angle so they can make eye contact. his brain feels like it’s short-circuited. “you _asshole,”_ he says. “you can’t just drop that in conversation without providing more relevant details. talking about dropping a hint like an atom bomb, jeez. aren’t you supposed to be more tactful than this? isn’t political science like all strategy bullshit?”

“it’s ass-kissing bullshit, mostly.”

“do you want to do kinky stuff with me?” ed presses. “what kind of stuff is it?” 

“i’m already doing kinky stuff with you,” roy replies dryly. “i’ll make you a list.” for a second he’s almost laughing before his face turns serious again. “what i’m trying to say is- i did enjoy what we did tonight, in case my behavior didn’t make that clear.” 

“...yeah?” ed feels something inside his chest, kicking at the inside of his rib cage. god, he hadn’t even really known this was something he wanted an hour ago, but the idea that he might actually get to keep it is making his tiny deformed heart swell way too big in his chest.

roy laughs again, but it doesn’t feel mean-spirited; it’s more like disbelief. “you’re so brilliant i still can’t believe you put up with me half the time, but you often miss what’s right in front of you.” it sounds like a compliment, his voice warm and caramel sweet. “i’m honestly a little bit embarrassed of how- eager i was, tonight, but you’re still somehow concerned that i didn’t have fun, fucking you until you screamed and making you lick your own come off my fingers.” 

after a pause, ed mumbles, “anybody ever tell you you talk too much?”, defensive in his embarrassment. 

roy laughs. “riza tells me every day,” he says solemnly. he strokes ed’s hair idly with his hand. “my point being, though, that if you also enjoyed what we did tonight, i would be happy to do it again with you. delighted, even.”

“... i did enjoy it.” he coughs, and hopes it makes his voice come out steadier. “we should talk about that- more. later.”

roy is practically purring. he has one hand positively tangled in ed’s hair, now, and he’s doing these fantastic little scratches with the blunt edges of his fingernails against ed’s scalp, and it kind of makes ed melt all over the place. “i would like that very much.”

“you’re _ridiculous.”_ he can feel that he’s blushing, but it’s warm, with roy’s arms around him and their bodies pressed against each other, and in a pinch ed could attribute any pinkness in his cheeks to mere environmental factors and definitely not embarrassment mixed with feeling so loved it’s a little bit overwhelming.

“i’m sincere, i promise,” roy says. “we can talk about the details more at a later date, though; i know it’s getting late, and we both have places to be in the morning. it might be good to take a few days to think about wants and needs and expectations anyway. did you want to take a shower now? or tomorrow morning?”

ed thinks for a moment about being forced to leave the warm embrace of roy’s bed, and thus leave roy’s arms within roy’s bed, and mumbles, “tomorrow morning would be amazing.” 

roy sounds genuinely happy about it when he says, “perfect.” 

he starts to prod at ed as if he were a sleeping cat, maneuvering him under a layer of blankets while they’re still all snuggled together, which is the kind of thing ed would find impressive if he’d been awake enough to notice. “do you need anything?” roy says quietly. he always gets all soft after they do a scene - protective.

“need you to stop talking so much,” ed mumbles. “you don’t get to keep me up all night if you’re gonna fuck me like that; i need _rest.”_

roy laughs and pushes a piece of stray hair back off of ed’s face. “i can most definitely do that for you,” he says softly, and he sounds like he’s got that sappy fucking smile on his face, even if ed’s eyes are too heavy for him to look. “good night, edward.”


	2. impregnation kink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “i know we’ve only just started talking about it, and i don’t mean to pressure you-”
> 
> ed looks at him, young and startled and for a split second, afraid, and roy feels his cock throb. 
> 
> “but i was thinking, tonight, if you wanted, we don’t have to use a condom. if you wanted. to try.” 
> 
> ed shivers again, and roy can practically see the wheels turning in his head. they’d stopped using condoms months ago, and he’s sure ed’s thinking of that, then racking his brain for other possible explanations, other interpretations, when realization dawns on his face- 
> 
> his eyes go wide, and he shivers again, presses his hips down and grinds against roy’s thigh. “fuck, yes, _yes,_ i want to try.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy valentine's day internet! i got you some porn, i’m sorry it took so long T.T this time of year is really rough for me mental health wise, hence the delay, but i really appreciate all of the support and nice comments on this fic. 
> 
> it’s never really come up in anything i’ve written so far, but it’s kind of topical now, so: i’ve always headcanoned ed as non-binary in this au. i’m always cognizant of how i write the gender-y things in this ‘verse — roy calls ed baby boy/baby girl and good boy/good girl pretty much interchangeably, for example — and what kinds of language i do and do not use (ex: nobody is crossdressing here, ed is just a Person who wears Clothes.) i don’t treat anybody’s gender like it’s a fetish and i try to carry that through in my writing as much as i can. 
> 
> anyway, that said, on with the show! 
> 
>  
> 
> chapter specific warnings: impregnation kink (and associated barebacking, comeplay, etc), a little bit of pretending it’s your first time, bruises/hickeys, ed getting his face slapped, penetrative sex, the implication of (but no actual) choking.

roy pins ed to the inside of door as soon as they get home from dinner, one hand fumbling with the deadbolt while the other tangles itself in ed’s hair — down, at roy’s request. ed cleans up good; he’d been positively sparkling tonight in a well-cut suit, smirking up at roy from across the table from behind a champagne glass in the dim light of the restaurant. he’d been the brightest thing in the room, golden and luminescent and blissfully unaware of it all as he gushed about the goings-on in his lab and talked with his hands while holding a glass of dom pérignon. 

as soon as roy has him pinned to the door, ed practically melts in his hands; if roy weren’t holding him up, he’d be on the floor. “i’ve been waiting all fucking night for you to undress me,” ed whines.

roy laughs, strokes ed’s hair back. “trust me, i’ve been thinking about it too,” he says warmly. “you looked wonderful tonight. everyone in the restaurant wanted you.”

ed giggles, but he looks pleased, half-blushing from the compliment but not will to concede to outright submission just yet. “and?” he says. “you like having the thing that everybody wants.” his eyes are dancing and he’s got confidence coming off of him in waves; roy loves this version of ed, all bravado and sharp edges and never willing to give in without making roy get his hands dirty. 

“i do,” roy agrees, shifts his weight to press one of his legs between both of ed’s. it’s not enough to give him any real friction, but just enough to tease. “but i also know how much you like being the center of attention.”

“so we’re both equally vain,” ed replies around a laugh. “i feel like that’s good; if you spent any more time doing your hair, i probably would’ve left you by now.”

roy tugs at ed’s hair, hard but just once, a warning. he watches ed’s eyes snap shut then reopen blown wide, pupils dilating on command like ed is an instrument roy plays. “did you like knowing people were looking at you, edward? you, in a restaurant like that with a man like me — you know people make assumptions.” 

“i know what they think,” ed spits, and there’s color creeping into his cheeks. “but it’s really not any of their goddamn business-” 

“are they even wrong, princess?” 

ed shivers hard, and their bodies are close enough that roy feels it too. “i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mumbles, and he looks younger all of a sudden, almost shy. 

ed tries to turn his head, tuck his face into roy’s chest because the eye contact makes his skin crawl, but roy’s other hand catches ed’s jaw and forces him to meet his eyes. “people see a pretty young thing like you, sitting across the table from me in a suit that i paid for,” he says, so close his breathing ghosts against ed’s skin, “and you think they couldn’t tell that you were going to be getting fucked against the door as soon as we got home? that i get to fuck you as hard as i want, after all the money i just spent on you? that you’d be so desperate for it you wouldn’t even make it to the bedroom?” 

“that’s not- technically what happened-” ed whines. he’s beautifully flushed, sweating and half- heartedly fighting back. ed’s stronger than this — could really give roy a run for his money if he wanted to — but roy’s long since observed that ed only really fights back enough to get a rise out of him: a shove back against the door, the warm pressure of roy’s hand at his throat, a slap so out of the blue it leaves ed gaping and gasping. 

roy chuckles. “you’re never going to get what you want if you keep lying to me,” he chides. “do you think they’re wondering if you call me daddy? if i ever hit you? if you _like_ it?”

ed squirms, but roy is everywhere, all over him, holding him in place just this side of too tightly. he has his hands pressed flat against roy’s chest, just resting there, comfortable and intimate even as ed bickers with him like a school child. “god, is that it? are you worried they think you’re a sick old man?” 

roy laughs again, but it’s gentler this time, soft around the edges. “part of me really, really hopes they do,” he says. “because they’re right, aren’t they? i do all kinds of depraved things to you, and you just beg for more. they couldn’t even imagine.” 

roy tugs his hand free of ed’s hair, keeps him in place against the door with body as his hand moves down to cup the front of ed’s pants. “you can act embarrassed all you want; you’re hard, and i haven’t even touched you.” 

“you’re supposed to be flattered,” ed says tightly. 

“i know what you like.” roy fumbles to undo ed’s fly, and ed makes a wet gasping noise in the back of his throat. “i’ve been thinking about this all day,” roy continues, and steels himself to stay in character. “i know we’ve only just started talking about it, and i don’t mean to pressure you-”

ed looks at him, young and startled and for a split second, afraid, and roy feels his cock throb. 

“but i was thinking, tonight, if you wanted, we don’t have to use a condom. if you wanted. to try.” 

ed shivers again, and roy can practically see the wheels turning in his head. they’d stopped using condoms months ago, and he’s sure ed’s thinking of that, then racking his brain for other possible explanations, other interpretations, when realization dawns on his face- 

his eyes go wide, and he shivers again, presses his hips down and grinds against roy’s thigh. “fuck, yes, _yes,_ i want to try.” 

roy feels a surge of something deep in the pit of his chest, something warm and hungry and predatory. “that’s what i like to hear,” he purrs, and lets his hand slip inside ed’s pants, cold fingers trailing along sensitive tracts of skin. 

ed make a surprised noise and presses back against the door. “fuck, come on,” he whines. “you waste so much time _talking_ all the goddamn time when you could’ve had me naked already.”

roy hums. “anticipation, edward.” he drags his hand over ed’s cock again, lets his fingers linger on the familiar texture of lace and idly muses over what color panties ed will have chosen. “patience. a little finesse.”

“who give a shit about _finesse?”_ ed grinds against him again, drags his hands down roy’s shirt and lets his nails catch on the fabric, and roy pulls his hand out of his pants as quickly as if ed had burned him.

“i do,” roy says, flat. “and tonight you’re going to take what i give you, do i make myself clear? i’ll decide when and where you get fucked, and right now you’re doing a pretty poor job of convincing me.”

ed spits, “you’re such a goddamn sadist-” and roy’s hand leaves his jaw this time too. 

“you’re not gonna be complaining about that in a minute,” roy says, dry, shifts his weight to his hips so ed can feel his erection pressing against him. “we can do this the easy way or the hard way, edward; you can be good for me, and i’ll whisper sweet nothings in your ear while i fuck you so hard your vision goes white and get you nice and hard and embarrassed about how much you want me to get you pregnant, or-” roy lets his hand come to rest against ed’s neck, not applying enough pressure to choke him, but enough that ed’s definitely picking up the implication. _“or,”_ he grits, “i can take what i want. i will beat it out of you and fuck it out of you, and you’ll end tonight with bruises and my come dripping out of your ass, still begging me to touch you.” 

ed shivers against him again, rolls his hips in search of friction, but he can’t get a good angle with the way roy has him pinned. _“fuck,_ yeah, yes, i- i can behave, i swear- i feel like i’m already- i’ll do whatever i have to do to get you to get me off tonight.”

it’s not exactly begging, but it’s a start. 

“i’m going to to start touching you again,” roy tells him, “and you’re not going to complain, or tell me that i need to go faster, or try to pick a fight with me. we’re doing things at my pace tonight, and i will decide if and when you’ve earned the privilege of taking your clothes off, touching yourself, touching _me,_ everything. understood?”

“yes daddy,” ed mumbles, trying to look away but finding roy is too close for him to really be able to look anywhere else. 

roy hums, “perfect,” and lets his hand come back to the front of ed’s dress pants, open and revealing a glimpse at what’s underneath. ed is beautifully hard still, leaking precum and making a wet patch near the waistband of a pair of black lace panties, and roy wants him so much in that moment that he almost considers giving in and just fucking ed until he cries, right here in the entryway. 

instead, he steels himself and inhales and slides his hand underneath the lace and wraps it around ed’s cock, and ed takes a deep, jagged breath, half of a whine that dies in his throat. “don’t talk,” roy says, and he jerks ed off for a minute like that with slow, heavy strokes that leave him gasping and shivering and pressing back against the door trying to keep still. roy gets as close to him as he can, lets his shoulders press against ed’s and puts weight into it, tangles their legs together trying to hold ed in place while ed seeks more friction. “just relax for me, okay? i know it feels good; you don’t have to pretend it doesn’t.”

ed nods fervently but decidedly does not relax; he’s wound so tight he’s nearly shaking, and roy strokes down the line of his shoulders with his free hand, tries to massage the tension out of his body to no avail. “is this what you were thinking about, at dinner? you, pressed up against the door, your rumpled suit, your leaking erection, how good it was going to feel when i finally _touched_ you?” 

for a moment, ed just looks at him, dilated pupils but still an unmistakably elric expression on his face, an eyebrow raised as if to say, ‘you _just_ told me no.’ roy meets his gaze, heady and dizzying, for a few extra seconds before he finally says, “you can speak when spoken to.” 

ed takes a rickety breath. roy’s still jerking him off, glacially slow and just enough to keep ed on edge. “i was mostly thinking about- after.”

“after?”

“about getting fucked,” he says, and his voice is high, wobbling and stilted. “and you coming inside me. without- anything.”

“about me coming inside you, or about me spreading your legs for you and knocking you up like the whore you are?”

ed squirms against him. his hips twitch in roy’s grip when roy says the word ‘whore.’

“you _know-”_

“i do know,” roy agrees easily. “but i want to hear you say it.” 

edward is delightfully dishevelled by this point, his pants unzipped and half slipping down his hips, his jacket still on and his shirt pushed hastily up against his chest. his cheeks have gone pink, and sure, ed will blame the heat, the hormones, god knows what else, but roy feels his pulse thrumming just knowing he’s able to make ed blush like this and still beg for cock without any hesitation. “the second one,” ed mumbles, looking away.

that certainly won’t do. 

in a moment, before ed’s even really registered the change, roy’s stepping back and taking his hands with him: it must jarring, at first, to go from roy’s hands in all his spaces to no contact at all, but before ed can gripe about it, roy’s got one hand up again, poised to strike. 

the crack of the slap echoes through the whole foyer.

ed is totally silent for a long moment - the slap rings out like a goddamn bell, looping and playing off of itself in the small alcove the foyer makes - and when he finally looks at roy again, his eyes are liquid and his facial expression is stuck somewhere between hunger and awe.

“do you want to try that again, edward?” roy asks. 

ed blinks at him, doe-eyed and young for a moment, before he fumbles, “i’m sorry, daddy, i-”

“you’re already forgetting the rules,” roy scoffs. “i know you can do better.”

“i know, i know, i’m sorry, i-”

roy takes a step closer, watches ed’s eyes go wide as they track roy’s hand reaching forward toward his neck. he lets his hand just rest, open, at the spot where ed’s neck meets his chest, the web of his hand at ed’s adam’s apple. it’s making ed delightfully nervous; his pulse is fluttering hummingbird fast. “i want to hear you say it,” roy repeats, tightens his grip on ed’s neck for a moment before he lets go. “so _say. it.”_

ed swallows hard and steels himself. “i was thinking about you knocking me up, daddy.” 

his cheeks are so pink they’re nearly red, and roy wants to keep him that way for the rest of his life. “that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he purrs. 

“you fucking know how hard it is-”

“there’s no need to be embarrassed,” he continues. “you know daddy will take care of it for you; all you have to do is ask.” 

_“please,_ fuck, daddy, i- i need you to fuck me, please, i need your cock and your come and i wanna make a baby- ‘ve been thinkin’ about it all week-”

ed was so darling sometimes, especially when he was walking straight into the fire with trademark elric tenacity, letting himself be humiliated because he knew the kind of reaction it got from roy. in moments like this, roy just wanted to wrap him up in a soft blanket and keep him all to himself to spoil and dote on as he pleased, shower him with praise while roy jerked him off to truly filthy thoughts and then tuck him into bed afterwards and do it all again the next day. 

instead, he says, “that’s a good boy,” and shoves ed back against the door again, knocks ed’s legs apart and grinds against his hip so ed can feel how hard he is. “you feel that? i’ve been waiting all day to get to take what’s mine.”

ed whines. “please, fuck, i-”

“you’re gonna feel so used,” roy continues, runs his hands up ed’s chest and lets his nails catch on the way back down. “i’m going to breed you like the whore that you are, and you’ll just keep begging for it, won’t you?”

ed’s eyes are wide, edging closer to panicked. “i- yes, yes, i- daddy _please-”_

“bedroom, edward.” 

ed nearly trips - his pants are pushed down, bunching at his ankles - and they have a giggly, breathless kiss as roy spins him around and walks him backwards and peels him out of his clothes, his jacket and his shoes and his tie, his pants and his socks. ed kisses him headily, dizzily, his mouth open and gasping, and roy swallows down all of the delectable noises ed is making and pushes him back until his legs hit the bed and his knees fold. 

he’s a vision in nothing but a rumpled oxford shirt and his lacey underwear, his hair down and begging roy to tangle his hands in it. he’s flushed pink, from drinking with dinner and from the adrenaline of fooling around, his chest rising and falling as he catches his breath, and roy could swear he’s glowing.

roy fumbles with the buttons of his shirt, his hands unsteady and his priorities thoroughly elsewhere, what with the way ed is mouthing at the ridge of his collarbone and nibbling with just the barest hint of teeth. when he finally gets the last one free, he shoves at the fabric until he feels ed’s bare shoulders underneath his hands, then pulls back and gives ed another quick, perfunctory slap across his face. 

the look on ed’s face in the moment after you’d just slapped him was one of the most profoundly erotic things that roy had experienced: shock, a hint of fear, but mostly heady, drug-like arousal and raw, unmitigated wanting. his pupils dilated. sometimes he would shiver and lean into the touch, like he wanted more, like a cat asking for attention. he was so pliant in those moments, a toy in roy’s hands, beautiful and filthy and an unapologetic masochist whom roy could never deny; it was intoxicating to have that kind of power.

“i’m setting the pace tonight, remember?” roy could feel a rush of blood to his cock when he’d slapped him, and he knew ed got those, too. “i’m not going to stop fucking you just because you got all worked up and you came all over yourself as soon as i got my dick inside you.” he runs his hands across the panes of ed’s chest, caught one of ed’s nipples between two fingers to tease and pinch. “you’d like that, though, wouldn’t you? me fucking you when you’re all spent and oversensitive, making your cock leak and dribble before you can even get hard again.” 

ed blinks at him, faux innocent over the layer of embarrassment. he looks almost flustered. “i would- yeah, yes, if that was what you wanted-”

“another time, hmm?” roy pauses to shrug out of his jacket, toe out of his shoes. “i promised you something else tonight, after all.”

“you’re damn right you did,” ed says, and his voice comes out delightfully threadbare and breathless in spite of his characteristic attempt to start shit at every available opportunity. 

“sometimes it’s like you _want_ me to smack you around,” roy says, just to watch ed shiver. he ghosts his fingers down ed’s chest and stomach, a touch so light it’s teasing, but it still makes ed tremble and whine anyway. “spread your legs for me, baby.”

he pushes ed onto his back, gets a hand on either calf and pushes until his knees are bent and open, his dick jutting out and obscenely stretching the lace of his panties. roy hooks a finger underneath them right where they cut across ed’s hips, and he pulls it away only to let it snap back into place.

ed makes a wounded noise. “should i take these off?” roy prods, trails his hand over ed’s cock and cups his balls through the fabric. 

“yes, please, _please-”_

“you look so pretty like this,” roy continues, and dips his his hand down so he’s just pressing against ed’s entrance through the thin layer of cloth. ed’s hair is everywhere, loose and golden and spilling off of the pillow, and his eyes have fluttered shut. “i could just keep teasing you and watch you start to get desperate.”

ed wiggles his hips, presses back against roy’s hand. “how much more desperate d’you want?”

he hits ed twice — once on either side, just the quick, stinging smack of roy’s palm against the thin skin of the inside of his thighs. “desperate enough to be polite, for starters,” roy responds easily. “if you have enough energy to keep giving me shit, i clearly haven’t worn you out properly yet-”

“hey, no, that’s not fair,” ed says, anxiety creeping into his voice. “i’m ready, please, i’m behaving, i’ll-”

“tell me what you want.”

“i want you inside me, please,” he whines, and when he looks at roy, his eyes are hungry and dark. “want your fingers and your cock and your come, please, fuck-”

“that’s a good boy,” roy hums. he gets ed’s panties off with a coordinated shimmy of his hips, and his dick is beautiful and hard and flushed, smudged and dripping precum. he shivers and suddenly feels how hot he is, how tight his pants are, and his hands aren’t the steadiest as he undoes the buttons of his shirt and discards it; ed is almost too much like this, a vision in gold tones laid out against roy’s sheets and begging for filthy things. 

he gets a bottle of lube from the nightstand drawer and returns to his place between ed’s legs, nudges his knees apart and grabs at the meat of ed’s ass just because he can, just because he loves watching ed gasp and writhe in his bed. “it’s going to be cold,” he says quietly, smearing lube on two of his fingers. “i just need you to relax for me, okay baby boy?”

he hears ed’s breathing pick up at the warning, and when they lock eyes for a moment, ed is pleading, desperation with just an edge of fear. “i’m relaxed,” he says urgently. “please, c’mon, i’m so relaxed-” 

nothing is more gratifying than listening to ed’s mouthing off dissolve into a shameless moan mid-sentence. it’s a split-second decision that roy doesn’t bother to start with a single finger — ed can take it and they both know that, and he likes the surprise, like the blunt stretch and the edge of pain before it starts to feel good. he’s practically melting into the sheets, pressing back against roy and forcing familiar muscles to relax into it, and roy strokes into him deeper, lets his fingers start to curl. 

“god, _fuck,”_ ed says, loud and unashamed. “‘ve been thinking about your dick all day-” 

“is that right?” roy hums, twists his fingers and watches ed tremble at the new sensation.

 _“daddy,”_ ed pleads, and he must be pretty far gone if he’s openly begging already. roy loves him like this, when roy’s beaten him down enough he’s comfortable submitting and he finally starts to let go. “fuck me, please, _god-_ i’m dying, i don’t need any more- i’m so so good, please, can we-”

“i’ve got you, baby girl,” roy says, pulls his fingers out with an obscene noise and fumbles his way out of his pants and his boxers and his goddamn socks with his pulse hammering way too loud in his ears. he’s still shaky as he pours more lube on his fingers and coats his dick with a perfunctory stroke, but thankfully ed doesn’t seem to notice.

roy catches ed’s calf with his free hand and bends it back, uses it to shift the angle, and ed is still going on about how badly he needs it when roy finds the right angle and presses into him. in the back of his mind, underneath all the haze, he’s dimly aware that he’s hardly fingered ed at all; this is going to hurt, and ed knows that, wants that, but roy gives it to him slowly anyway, watches his toes curl and his fingers clench in the sheets, drinks in his gaspy, frantic swearing and the half-formed moans. time passes chokingly slowly, the air thick and hot between them.

“shh, stay with me, sweetheart,” roy hums, runs his hand down the length of ed’s chest and his stomach, over the ridge of his pelvis and down onto his thigh. “you’re doing so well for me- i know it’s a lot and you’re taking it so well for me.”

he nudges his hips again, presses deeper and groans involuntarily as he feels his cock bottom out, and ed makes a beautiful, wordless, gaspy noise. he trembles in roy’s hands, wraps his legs around roy’s waist to try to pull him in closer and flutters his eyes open to meet roy’s. “oh my _god,_ jesus fucking christ, roy-” 

roy rolls his hips, just enough of a drag of friction to make ed whine. “that’s a good girl,” he murmurs. “i want to hear you.” 

_“shit,_ so good,” ed babbles, and roy marvels at his obedience, marvels at his beautiful mess of a partner who’s never cared about other people’s approval a day in his life but still craves roy’s praise like it’s his drug of choice. “you feel so good- fuck, you feel so big when it’s like this- want you to move, god-”

roy starts to fuck him, slowly at first, the kind of crushing pace that’ll have ed begging and scrambling back against him in about thirty seconds. “we’re doing things my pace tonight, princess,” he reminds ed, his voice almost gentle. 

“god, _fuck_ please-” ed arches off of the bed, keeps his legs wrapped around roy’s waist and shifts the angle in a way that makes him cry out. roy grabs him by the hips and holds him there. “right there, oh my god daddy please-”

“you really are shameless,” roy hums. “my sweet little whore, getting what you wanted and still begging me for more-”

ed squirms — he loves it when roy says humiliating things in his praise voice — and roy’s grip on his hips tightens instinctively, mostly just out of reflex, but ed makes an approving hum anyway. suddenly, roy is thinking about ed with bruises in the shapes of his fingerprints — the way the bruises would poke out of his underwear no matter what kind he’s wearing that day, how it would be obvious what they were from if anyone else were to see them. “of course you fucking like that,” he continues, keeps his grip tight as he starts fucking him again, keeps the pace low so ed stays frustrated and desperate around the edges. “you love wearing my marks, don’t you?”

ed makes a choked sound. he’s still got his hands clenched in the sheets, knuckles white. “i really do, fuck- i love feeling sore spots the day after, i love seeing the evidence and not being able to deny it-”

roy liked that part too. “i know you do,” he says instead, “but i think you also just enjoy feeling like a possession.” ed makes an embarrassed noise but doesn’t object, so roy continues, ramps up the pace a bit, “feeling used, after i’m done with you. that’s why you’re always begging me to come inside you, isn’t it?”

“god, _fuck,_ i’d fucking- you have no idea how fucking bad i want it-”

“i think i have a pretty good idea,” roy grits, slams his hips too hard by accident and savors the way ed cries out. “you know the rules; all you have to do is ask.”

ed is panting, flushed and sweating and looking at him wide eyed and needy. “fuck, i want your come- daddy, please, _please-”_

roy pulls out suddenly, and ed makes a beautiful noise of protest, moves his hips in roy’s grip in search of friction and finds nothing. roy tosses him back onto the bed. “on your stomach?” roy asks, his voice hard. “on your face?”

ed is too far gone to be ashamed, and it’s incredible every single time. “inside me, please- i wanna feel it, wanna feel you-”

roy takes a step back, leaves ed where he is and walks carefully around to the side of the bed and sits. ed watches, silent but paying rapt attention, so they lock eyes when roy turns to him and says, “come sit on daddy’s lap.”

ed goes visibly still for a second, a deer in headlights, before blood rushes to his cheeks again and he scrambles toward the edge of the bed.

“no,” roy says, flat. “crawl.”

ed flinches, but he does it. the bed isn’t that big, so he really only has a few feet to traverse, but it doesn’t take much to have the intended effect; ed looks smaller, borderline shy by the time he’s scrambling up into roy’s lap, a puppy with his ears down. his dick bobs between his legs. down, his hair comes nearly halfway down his back.

ed puts a hand on roy’s shoulder for balance, and when he gets his legs on either side of roys, they’re close enough to kiss, sharing space and air that feels thick and sparking, like static electricity. “please,” ed says softly, “please, can i-”

roy holds ed by his hips again; he likes how his hands fit there. “can you what?”

“can i ride you, please?” he says, close enough that roy feels his breathing against the crook of his neck and his erection dragging against roy’s stomach as he settles. “need your cock, daddy.”

“i guess since you asked so nicely,” he says, strokes ed’s hair back off his face and traces down the line of his jaw and onto his neck and shoulder. “show me how you want it.”

ed looks shy, fumbling as he reaches a hand behind himself and wraps it around roy’s cock, and roy makes an involuntary noise, a groan that rumbles in his chest, being forced out of him like a cup running over. ed’s eyes go wide and he gasps a quiet _“ah, fuck”_ as he lines himself up, and he trembles a little bit in roy’s grip as he twitches his hips and starts to sink down. 

“that’s a good boy,” roy says, feels his voice getting rough. “does it feel good?”

ed moans, _“shit,_ fuck- feels so fucking good-” and he’s beautiful like this, muscles clenching and rippling taut in his stomach and his legs as he positions himself. “i can take you so deep like this-”

“i want you to fuck yourself for me,” roy says, pushes a piece of ed’s hair back behind his ear as an excuse to touch him. “want to see how bad you want it.”

this close, ed is all warm flesh and hard edges, sweat glistening on his skin and his hair still loose and everywhere and glinting in the dim lighting. roy runs a hand down his chest and ed makes a breathless, gaspy noise, rolls his hips and takes roy deeper, halfway on accident. his dick is hard and bobbing between them, dripping against roy’s stomach. 

“god, fuck, _daddy,”_ ed swears, and his fingernails dig into the meat of roy’s shoulder. “you feel so good- make me so full-”

roy hums. “i’m going to do a lot more of that.” he tightens his grip on ed’s hips and pulls him down, further into his lap until roy can feel his cock bottoming out and ed crying out softly at the new sensation. “you’re gonna be so full of my come- so full some of it drips back out and dribbles down the backs of your legs- i love making a mess of you.”

ed whines and works his hips again, and roy feels drunk on him, dizzy from breathing him in too deeply. the air feels heavy around him, stifling, as if time is slowing down. “you’re doing so well for me,” roy continues, starts to buck his hips up in time to meet ed’s. “we’re going to make a baby, aren’t we sweetheart?”

ed keens, and roy fuck into him harder and savors it. ed feels so good he’s nearly gone lightheaded from it, and they’ve been dragging this scene out all night; he’s not going to last forever. “daddy’s going to make a baby inside of you,” roy continues, in a voice that’s jagged, broken like chunks of concrete dragging against his ribcage. 

ed shivers, grips roy’s shoulders tighter and says, _“fuck_ yeah, you are,” in a buttery voice, slurring from the endorphins and grin creeping into his tone. roy can feel his voice rumble in his chest. 

roy grabs ed by the hips and jerks him down against him, hard. ed gets about halfway into a string of “shit- _fuck_ shit _shit”_ before he’s cut off by roy’s hand on his face, a weak close-range slap more to get his attention than inflict any serious pain.

ed goes gloriously still, and his eyes are the size of dinner plates — the trust he puts in roy is astonishing sometimes, overwhelming and tangy sweet and perfect every single time. “manners, edward,” roy says, gritty around the edges so his voice stays steady. 

“fuck- sorry, sorry, i didn’t mean to-” he gasps. he’s beautiful like this, pressing back against roy and rocking his hips in tiny circles and looking up at roy from underneath his eyelashes apologizing. 

“what do you say?”

ed blinks, startles a little bit and looks away from roy like the humiliation is burning him. “thank you, daddy.”

“that’s better,” roy says. he takes ed’s chin in his hand and nudges his head up, coaxes him to make eye contact. “i’m going to make you all messy- this is how i mark my territory, isn’t it? this is how i show you who you belong to, who takes care of you and smacks you around and fucks you senseless when you need it.” 

_“fuck,”_ ed whines, squirms and grinds against roy. his dick is messy, dribbling untouched between their bodies. “you know i fucking need it- c’mon, _please-”_

roy trails his hands from ed’s hips to the curve of his ass and grabs, and ed makes a sinful noise and presses against him like his life depends on it. they’re off-rhythm, out of sync, but even the slow, aching grind is still making him see stars. “ask for what you want,” roy says tightly.

“fuck, _please-_ fill me up, please, come inside me-” ed picks himself up, then drops back down with all his weight and lets out an obscene moan. “knock me up, god, jesus fuck-”

for a moment it’s sweltering, just the sounds of their shared breathing and the occasional hum of a car on the street or an “l” train passing in the distance, the air cottony thick and just this side of choking. ed is all over him: warm thighs splayed over his lap, one hand pressed against roy’s chest and the other hooked around the back of his neck, tangling and tugging at his hair, his cock glorious and gloriously neglected between them, bumping against roy’s stomach with a clumsy kind of grace, wringing these tiny breathy whines out of him every time he moves his hips just right. 

“you feel so good,” roy says, “and i promised you the same in return, didn’t i?”

ed whines and moves, drags himself up as far as he can until he slams back down again. “please, daddy- want you to use me, breed me-”

roy’s grip tightens, nails cutting into the muscle of ed’s thigh, and he snakes his other hand between their bodies and gets a hand around ed’s dick, and ed _screams,_ swears and shakes against him like he’s coming apart. at times like this, he’s glad he’s ended up with a house of his own instead of a condo in some lakefront high-rise — there’s no way ed could cry out like this in a building with neighbors without attracting precisely the wrong sort of attention, and the last thing he wants to do right now is tell ed to stop.

roy touches him slowly, teases him, trails a finger up along the underside of his cock and watches him shiver. ed is so tense it feels like he might snap, gripping roy’s shoulders too hard and fucking himself down on roy’s cock even though his legs are starting to get shaky. “i’m gonna come if you keep touching me like that,” he says, breathless.

roy drags his thumb through the mess of precum at his slit, leans into ed’s shoulder so that ed can feel his ragged breathing. “and if i want you to come?”

 _“fuck,”_ ed says, “fucking- daddy, i can’t-”

he tightens his grip and starts to stroke ed in earnest. “it’s okay, baby girl,” roy hums against him, “daddy will take care of it for you. you can make a mess for me.”

ed’s hips twitch in his grip, bucking up to meet roy’s hand one last time, and he makes a wordless, choked noise and comes, all over roy’s hand and their stomachs and the tops of their thighs. 

ed starts whining at the overstimulation almost immediately, shifting up on his trembling knees, and in this moment roy needs him, needs this, needs the escapism and the hedonism and all the dirty parts. ed must know, though — he sees right through roy in their regular lives every goddamn day, without even realizing he’s doing it, and it would be stupid to assume sex would be an exception to that pattern — because he lets roy toss him back onto the bed and crawl between his legs, lets roy push his legs up and apart so they fall open and bent, so roy can hold him by the hips as he pounds into him.

“you were so good for me,” roy says, as he slides home again. ed makes a gaspy sound and grabs at him, pulls him closer, so roy continues, “you looked so good making a mess all over yourself, fucking yourself on my cock-”

“want you to come inside me,” ed gasps. “make a baby inside me, _fuck-”_ he’s making these tiny little whines whenever roy’s thrusts brush that sweet spot, and he’s magnificent like this, sweaty and spent and oversensitive. “daddy, _please.”_

roy growls without meaning to. his pulse is so loud it feels like it’s reverberating through his whole body, like the rumbling of an oncoming train, and he’s tense, on edge, close. “i love how much you’ll beg for this, how much you need it.” 

ed squirms in his grip — whether from the overstimulation or the embarrassment roy’s not entirely sure — but their eyes lock, and ed’s gaze is desperate, hungry, magnetic as roy holds him down by his hips and fucks him through it. 

ed cries out, gasps, “roy, _please”_ in a broken voice and roy swears against the crook of his neck, sees stars, sees nothing at all for a few seconds as he starts to come. he holds ed so tightly he’s probably going to have bruises, and ed is positively divine, making these soft, sensitive noises and pressing back against him, clenching around him, white knuckles grabbing at the sheets. ed works his hips like he’s trying to wring the orgasm out of him, and roy groans, chokes, nips at the crux of ed’s shoulder in one last show of possession and just _takes._

for a moment, it’s just the sound of roy’s thundering pulse and their tangled breathing, the warmth of skin-on-skin the only anchor as the room spins.

“jesus fucking _christ,_ roy,” ed says, breathless still, giddy. 

roy laughs, still on top of him, and hums, “indeed.” he strokes his hand down ed’s hair, or at least as much of it as he can reach at the moment. “have i told you lately how delightful you are?”

“you could tell me again,” ed mumbles, grinning.

roy shifts his weight back onto his wobbly knees, and ed whines as he pulls out, sensitive and twitching and trembling around him. “see?” roy hums, brings a hand up to ed’s entrance and drags a finger through the mess that’s started to dribble out. “delightful.”

ed snorts, but he can’t seem to take his eyes off roy, and their gazes are still locked when roy brings his finger up to his mouth and sucks it clean. 

“are you trying to kill me?” ed asks dizzily.

“on the contrary,” roy says, “i’d rather been hoping to keep you alive at least long enough for me to wash your hair for you, and from there, who’s to say? you might find yourself so enamored with my hair-washing skills that you end up, say, claiming my guest bedroom as your own, sleeping here more often than not, wanting me to meet your brother-”

“oh shut _up.”_ ed reaches for him, tangles their hands and uses roy as leverage to sit up. “if your whole plan hinges on washing my hair, you’d better start there.”

ed is hypnotic without even trying: marks blooming on his skin from where roy’d gripped his hips too hard, a bite mark christening his shoulder, naked as the day he was born, with his hair loose and tangled in an extraordinary number of knots but still glinting gold in the bedroom light. his eyes are still dilated and he looks drunk, high, like roy’d fucked him so good it’s altered his state of consciousness, and in moments like these it was impossible to ignore that doing scenes like this was a psychological release for ed as much as it was for roy; it was written all over his face. 

ed takes a few uneasy steps before his knees threaten to give out and he wobbles, just a second, before roy’s close enough behind him to catch him. “you can let me do this for you, you know,” roy says, soft.

“‘m not letting you carry me,” ed mumbles. “you’ll like it way too much and i’ll never get you to stop.”

roy laughs, but he’s probably right. “a middle ground, perhaps,” he says. “just- put your arm around me.” 

ed leans into his side, lets roy put a possessive arm around his shoulders and take some of his weight, and they go like that until they reach the shower, with ed setting the pace. he’s slightly steadier as they step into the shower, but roy doesn’t stop touching him for more than passing moments, adjusting the water temperature or fiddling with a stubborn soap or shampoo bottle before he’s back with his hands drawing shapes on ed’s skin, washing him with a warm cloth and this sweet, lavender-scented soap that ed refuses to admit he likes but always steals from roy’s shower anyway.

“you really were darling tonight, edward,” roy says, through the sound of the shower, his hands knuckle deep in ed’s hair, lathering shampoo. his voice is low, reassuring and sweet like brown sugar. “i know you prefer to keep things low profile, but- all you have to do is ask, and i would take you out and show you off like that as often as our schedules permit.”

“are you gonna fuck me like that every time?” ed mumbles, and he sounds nearly half asleep. “you didn’t advertise that part.”

roys laughs, lets his nails drag and start to scratch a little bit as he rinses ed’s hair clean; it makes him purr like a cat. “it probably won’t be exactly like that,” he hedges. “but of a similar intensity, ideally. as many times as you want, on whatever surface you want, up to and probably including a spacious restaurant bathroom where i can pay off the attendant.” 

ed laughs too, low and quiet and undeniably real. “riza would murder you if that story got out,” he says. 

“i’ll have you know i’m _great_ at keeping a secret.”

“i’m sure you fuckin’ are,” ed says, grinning.

regrettably, roy has to let go of ed _again_ to open the conditioner bottle, and as he returns and starts to work the product into his hair, it’s almost as if he can feel in the air that ed’s fading, that the buzz of anticipation that’s kept him going all night has finally died down. the man before him now is much more ‘sleep-deprived graduate student’ than ‘blonde minx giving him unmistakable bedroom eyes over dinner in a crowded restaurant.’ 

“you did so well, ed,” he says, without the edge of heat that belies a lot of their conversations. this isn’t his daddy voice, deep in his chest and always dripping suggestion; the curtain’s pulled back, now, and part of him thinks it means more to hear the praise come in his real voice, his just plain roy voice. “you were so patient for me, all night. you took everything that i gave you, and you were so beautiful, begging and crying and letting go for me.”

ed hums, but he doesn’t say anything, so roy keeps talking, fills the silence with reassurances  
as he rinses ed’s hair again, combs through his hair with his fingers until the water runs clean before he turns the shower off. 

“i’ll do your braid,” roy offers.

ed gives him a half-snort. “i guess you’re never going to get better if i don’t let you practice, huh?”

they take turns with a towel until they’re dry enough for bed, and ed sits relatively patiently while roy fumbles through his braid, more out of exhaustion than any sudden change of character. he leans back against roy’s chest, warm weight snuggling into him, his breathing so even roy doesn’t even notice at first that he’s drifted off to sleep. 

it’s not the best braid roy’s ever done, but ed doesn’t complain.

**Author's Note:**

> i’m attempting to do fandom on [twitter](https://twitter.com/teandfailure) now if you want to talk to me about my fics/royed/what you had for breakfast today/etc.


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